Page 124 of The Garnet Daughter
He crosses his arms, blocking the exit with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Really? I didn’t hear anything.”
I send him a leveled look. “August.”
“She will forgive me.” He laughs. “I needed to see you. It was . . . urgent.”
“And what exactly did you need to see me for so urgently?”
“I am a weak man. I’d like to hear you say it again.”
“Say what?”
His brows rise like he’s expecting me to know the answer. “It’s been so long, and I fear I’m going to need to hear it again . . . and often.”
I tap my boot, knowing exactly what he means. “How often?”
“As many times as I have thought it since we met.” His tone turns from playful to low and serious.
I stand a little straighter, taking a step toward him. “August. I, Calliape of Frith . . . love y?—”
He pounces forward, picking me up in one swoop so fast I squeak, my feet suddenly out from under me and around his torso. His laugh is mixed with a satisfied growl as he roughly nestles into my neck, nipping and kissing at my skin.
“That tickles!” I squawk, and then he hikes me up farther, palming the globes of my backside.
“Say it again,” he growls.
I cup his jaw and decide not to tease him this time. He has been so patient with me. “You asked me what I wanted . . . and I want to be with you. I belong with you.”
He grins up at me, holding me higher than his substantial height. “And . . . ?”
I mock-gasp at the joke he could not help himself to. “And I love you!”
He kisses me until my back touches the mattress, sinking into it as he gently pulls off my clothing one layer at a time until I am bare and set ablaze, and when his are finally off, I am panting with need and soaked between my legs.
He sinks into me, parting my thighs. His skin is like fire against mine, somehow sending lightning crackling throughout me like a frenzy of thunderbolts and pleasure wherever his body touches mine.
I kiss him deeply, inviting his tongue forward, the swirl of it rolling my eyes back in my skull. I rake my nails down his spine softly, then to his biceps, bulging and tense, holding him up by his forearms and caging me in.
He pulls back, taking the majority of his weight off me and nipping at my lower lip with teasing teeth. “Spin for me.”
I’m not exactly sure what he means, but when I guess and twist my hips to the side slowly, he nods in approval and then turns me the rest of the way, forcing me flat on my stomach and pinned underneath him.
His strong thighs press into the back of mine. I’m treated to the sight of his forearms on either side of my head, the veins running down the corded muscles begging me to bite into.
I gasp as he rocks forward, a slow slide of his hard cock between the cleft of my backside, and then he pushes himself lower. I whimper his name, not thinking this position possible, but he is so large and I’m so wet, he slides through my thighs and prods at my entrance with his next fluid rocking motion.
His hips buck, adjusting us, and he raises my hips with a deliciously rough hand on my pelvis.
Tears spring into my vision as he enters me in the next thrust. He groans so deeply in his chest, I can feel it against my back.
I unleash a cry unconsciously as his teeth bite into my shoulder, leaving an addictive sting soothed by a slide of his tongue.
I push myself off the downy mattress and try to look at him as he rolls his pelvis into me again, and when the stretch of my neck is too great, his hand slides to my throat, pulling my cheek up slightly to meet him.
He grunts his pleasure into my ear as he fucks me, working up to a steady, continuous rhythm.
I grip the pillow, the blankets, his forearms, whatever I can to stay in place and feel him as deep as possible.
I’m perfectly pinned under him, caged in as he slowly rams into me over and over, eliciting breathy moans I can’t control and driving me higher. It’s slower, less frantic than last time, and even though I cannot see him, the intimacy is more tender than I expected, the connection between us morphing our bodies into one being.
